


Coffee

by DanzaNelFuoco



Category: Grimm (TV)
Genre: Kissing, M/M, Pre-Slash, Translation, episode 1x08
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-05
Updated: 2018-12-05
Packaged: 2019-09-12 09:53:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16870792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DanzaNelFuoco/pseuds/DanzaNelFuoco
Summary: “There’s coffee in the kitchen. Help yourselves. Nick, you know where it is.”Hank was there, watching you confused and you really wished you could take it back, but, damn it, you couldn’t and maybe… maybe it wasn’t even right to do so.After all Nick had been in your kitchen and there was nothing wrong with it, was there? He really shouldn’t be trying to kill you with his stare right now.





	Coffee

**Author's Note:**

  * A translation of [Coffee](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/438004) by Danzanelfuoco. 



> Originally written in 2015 in Italian, now that I'm rewatching the show I felt the impulse of translating it for some strange reason, so here it is.

_“There’s coffee in the kitchen. Help yourselves. Nick, you know where it is.”_

Hank was there, watching you confused and you really wished you could take it back, but, damn it, you couldn’t and maybe… maybe it wasn’t even right to do so.

After all Nick _had been_ in your kitchen and there was nothing wrong with it, was there? He really shouldn’t be trying to kill you with his stare right now.

 

*

 

Nick is sitting in front of you, legs crossed under the table, gazing at you, dark circles under his eyes. It’s two a.m. and you were sleeping when he knocked on your door. Ok, you weren’t sleeping, not really, but you were about to slip under the blanket. You just needed to fix that last watch and then you would have gone to bed. Regardless, Nick interrupted you, he showed up at your door and with his innate and blind Grimm overbearingness (the one he probably doesn’t even know he has) asked for your help.

So you offered him a coffee, because you weren’t really sure you could face another hour awake without a once of caffeine in your blood, even if you have always liked tea better.

When you turn around, after pouring your own cup, he’s still gazing at you. You’d love to think the shivers running down your spine are shivers of fear, but that wouldn’t be the whole truth.

Nick is looking at you as a hunter looks at his prey and, as much as you know both of your natures, you can’t help trusting him to not cut off your head as soon as you’ll give him your back. You know that had Nick wanted you dead, you’ll be in a grave right now. Instead he knocked at your door and he asked for your help. He asked for _you_. A _Blutbad_.

“So, what’s the problem?” You ask, taking your sit in front of him and leaning slightly on the table.

“Do you know of a Wesen that…?” And you would really like to focus on Nick’s word, but he’s still gazing at you and his fingers are tormenting the handle of the mug…

Nick has to repeat his question a second time before you can understand what he’s saying. You’re really starting to think that Nick’s pink lips, in contrast with the green cup you just gave to him, should be considered illegal.

 

 

 

You though - you wanted to think - that Nick would have grown tired of you and he would stop asking you to help him solve his Wesen-related cases. It would have been natural. A Grimm sparing a Wesen was a thing (there where precedents, albeit those precedents were rare and the Wesens were never Blutbaden), but a Grimm becoming your friend… No, not happening.

But Nick is in your kitchen again, teeth clutching at the ceramic rim of the cup, lips half-closed, sipping slowly his coffee, ‘till there’s none left.

The way is Adam’s apple throbs is hypnotic, you can’t take your eyes off him.

He puts the mug on the table, tilting his head, flowing.

“Is there something wrong?”

“No, no” you rush to answer.

Damn him and his neck.

“So, what’s the problem this time? How can I help you?”

 

 

 

If you have to be honest to yourself, you are absolutely sure you would be disappointed if Nick stopped coming to you for help.

It’s a routine you two have now, Nick rings the bell and you have already prepared the coffee. You use the green mug, Nick’s mug, because by now he has his own mug in your house and that should be enough to make you stop to reconsider your acquaintances. You don’t really want to think about what your mother would say if she knew a Grimm was in your house and you didn’t try to kill him - you don’t think the adverse effects of caffeine could be considered a long-term murder plan.

“How did it go?” You ask. You are polite, after all.

Nick takes sit on his chair - he has a chair now - and starts telling.

“So, no Wesen?” You asked surprised, when he’s finished.

“No Wesen” he nods and the question that starts to form in your mind hangs in the air, unspoken.

_“Then why did you came?”_

You don’t want to ask it out loud, because he could then realize he doesn’t have a real reason to stay.

“Ok, then” you say, standing to make more coffee.

“Maybe I should leave…” he says and you force down the “no” that had reached for your lips. “It’s late and Juliette is waiting for me.”

_Oh_. “Ok, sure, no problem.”

You stare at the coffee dripping in the pot. Nick grabs your elbow and opens his mouth as if he’s about to say something, but then he changes his mind and his hands leaves you.

As soon as the front door closes, you feel the tension easing and you take a deep breath. You didn’t even realize you had stiffened.

 

 

You don’t ask. You don’t dare address the issue.

You definitely are not puzzled by Nick stopping at your house after an eight hours shift before heading home to his girlfriend even when his cases are not related with Wesen.

Ignorance is bliss, after all, and you are not sure you want to find out what is going with the men that was born to kill you and he’s settled to become your friend instead.

It has become a custom now, since you work from home you’re always willing to provide coffee to the cop that invades your house at every waking or sleeping hour, you’re always willing to provide your help.

By now you recognize him by his smell, the same smell that makes the visceral part of your brain screaming to run away as fast as you can. That part doesn’t scream enough, you are still here. Because that smell tells you that you can trust him and you can take the chance, so you do, even if you don’t like being in dangerous situations. Nick isn’t gonna kill you, you can smell it on him.

You have already made coffee - you amaze yourself at how much time you spend thinking about Nick, Nick’s gaze, Nick’s smell, Nick’s lips.

The green mug is already full and fuming and you are waiting for him to arrive, it’s a matter of minutes, this week his shift ends always at the same time and you have already picked the information up.

You smell him even before you can hear the car door slam shut in the street, but his smell is different. Is that… blood?

You are at the door before he can reach it and in the end he stumbles inside, leaving a blood trance on the doorframe where he leaned against it.

“Nick! What the hell-?”

You don’t wanna put the “Blutbad hen” mode on, but there’s blood, a lot of blood… and probably not all of it it’s Nick’s, but, damn, he’s injured.

“I’ve been attacked” he says, sitting on your couch.

“Attacked by who?” You help him to take off his tattered jacket and his ripped shirt to reach the wounds. You can’t allow yourself to realize you are _undressing Nick_.

“I don’t know, but they were waiting for me” he answers, wincing when you disinfect a gash on his chest, not deep, the jacket must have protected him.

The most serious wound, the one that caused the majority of the blood loss and the one that worried you sick, is a head wound.

“Why didn’t you go to the hospital? You’ll need stitches.”

Nick opens his mouth to answer you, but you choose that moment to pour alcohol on the laceration and the only thing that gets out of his mind is a chewed swear.

“I just wanted some coffee.”

You scowl at him, this is not a good time to joke, not while his blood is dripping down your wrist.

Nick puts on an apologetic expression. “I was on my way to come here, you were closer.”

“They really beat you up.”

“I suppose it would be too cliché to say they were beaten worse, wouldn’t it?”

You roll your eyes, keeping pressure on his wound with a towel. “I’m taking you to the hospital, right now.”

You go searching a shirt for him, because surely you can’t take him anywhere half-naked, but when you’re back he’s not longer on the couch. You follow his smell and found him in the kitchen, sipping lukewarm coffee nonchalantly, as if he didn’t have a head injury.

“The hell you’re doing?” You growl.

It’s the blood, his blood. It still affects you, you feel the wolf pushing to get out.

“I told you I just wanted some coffee.”

He’s pressing the towel to his head,his arm outstretch in a way that highlights his chest and makes something inside you quiver.

“Stupid reckless Grimm” you take the cup from his hand and you topple the coffee in the sink. Why can’t he understand this is serious, that he should be worries, that you can’t let him die?

“Ehi.”

You realize your eyes have become red when you turn and can see you in the black of his eyes.

“Monroe, are you ok?” He grabs you arm with his free hand and you can tell he’s concerned.

You push him against the wall, still being careful not to hurt his head. He looks lost for a second, not understanding why you are attacking him. Then you shut his mouth with yours and there are no fangs, no claws on your hands, no aggression.

You keep your eyes close so you can avoid seeing his wide ones. Anyhow you can feel he has stiffened, shock running in his body, and the hand that isn’t holding his head is still gripping your arm. He hasn’t moved.

You hadn’t planned it, you hadn’t even thought about it, not realizing what this would mean.

Nick eases up against you, but you take a step back.

“I have to take you to the hospital” you don’t dare meeting his eyes.

He’s still holding you by the arm and he’s not letting you go. “Yeah. That would be for the best” his voice is hoarse.He leans over you and places a kiss on your lips, before he turns and leave.

You stand there petrified for a whole minute, trying to process what has just happened, before you follow him. 

 

*

 

Hank was there, watching you confused and Nick really shouldn’t be trying to kill you with his stare because there was nothing wrong. At least, nothing wrong that Hank could found out. Because, come on, it would be too absurd, a Grimm and Blutbad having… something.

_“From the time you guys both searched my house, remember?”  
_Nick was still silently murdering you. Hank was still looking puzzled, wondering what he had missed. Awkward.

_“I mean, if you don’t remember, it’s right down that hall there.”_


End file.
